


Swimming Away from Sharks

by UnapologeticGarbage



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, F/M, Interspecies Relationship(s), Lawyer Sam Winchester, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Nurse Jessica Moore, Octo!Castiel, Octopus Castiel, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, diver!Dean, octo!cas, tiny!Cas, tiny!octo!cas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-25
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:50:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2669318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnapologeticGarbage/pseuds/UnapologeticGarbage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean finds Castiel 'running' away from a rather hungry Pacific Sleeper Shark. In his panic, Cas finds Dean to be a safe place. As Cas is unwilling to leave Dean, the green-eyed man takes him back to Palo Alto and offers the little creature a home. Their relationship progresses and evolves as does the quality of their life--together and apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Swimming Away from Sharks

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever Destiel fanfic, though I've read a lot. Enjoy.

Dean has never been a big fan of California. Too crowded for one. And dammit, he may not be the most moralistic person ever but hell, at least he had some. One thing he did love though, was how close to the ocean you could be at any given point. He’d always love the mystery of the ocean. How so much was undiscovered. How so many different species had developed such interesting ways to defend themselves. How little treasures were just waiting to be found. Okay. Now he was getting a little nerdy and romantic. Abort that shit. The ocean was just cool. Lots of fun things to be found. Which was why he was heading to the Carrier Pigeon Shipwreck. It was only about 500 feet from shore, but diving technically wasn’t allowed, so some cool things might be there. Of course, most said you weren’t supposed to dive alone, but Dean had long since decided that rule didn’t exist. Diving with other people was tedious. They always fucked things up somehow. By scaring the things he wanted to photograph or by being general nuisances. Either way, it was best not to bother. Dean grinned at the wind caressing his hair as he cut through the water, heading towards Longitude 37.10919 and Latitude 122.23633. It wasn’t a very long traverse. Thankfully, the day was clear so the rocks around him didn’t pose a major problem. In fact, they were beneficial. They hid his small vessel from prying eyes, while allowing him to get fairly close to the site.

Ever since Dean was sixteen and dropped out of high school to start working, he had been saving. At first, it was for his nerdy 12-year old brother who he just knew was going places. In the six years it had taken for Sammy to turn 18 and get a full ride to Stanford, he had saved quite a bit between working full time and a whole hell of a lot of overtime. Enough to pay for what the scholarship didn’t cover. Now, at 31, his Sammy was a hot-shot lawyer that insisted on paying Dean back. He didn’t want it of course. He had always known it would be Sam who would amount to something. Dean was just a mechanic. Sure, he was the boss, but it was nothing compared to Sammy. But he had been happy working to save up for Sam. Now that he was getting the money back, he didn’t know what to do with it (He’d tried just not accepting it of course, but Sam was a sneaky son of a bitch). A lavish life style had never been his thing. He preferred his battered jeans and old band t-shirts. He was good at saving of course, since he had done it for so long, that he had a pretty penny saved up, but it’s not like he had anything to spend it on.

Which led to this. Diving. When Sam had finally graduated law school at 25, with Dean being 29, he begged his older brother to take up some kind of hobby. He didn’t care if it was knitting—well, okay maybe he would have then. Ultimately, he wanted Dean out of the house. And not at work or a bar. He wanted Dean to have fun. So, without Dean’s consent, Sam signed him up for a diving class. Just a beginner class, nothing strenuous. But Dean had taken to it—pardon the pun—like a fish to water. He loved all the coral and different fish. He liked seeing things undisturbed by mankind, well, mostly undisturbed. There was always that asshole in the class.

Since he was so fond of it, Dean had signed up for more classes with the extra cash he had. One thing led to another and he became a certified diver. He bought his own little boat and some gear and here he was. About to break the law by diving in a “no diving allowed” zone. He didn’t really get why it wasn’t allowed. Wasn’t like it was dangerous if you knew what you were doing. Which Dean did, of course. Three years of diving almost every weekend gave way to a decent amount of experience. Dean double-checked that he was anchored well and that his gear was functioning before settling everything into place and falling backwards off of the little boat.

Water engulfed his every sense. Blue caressed his body as a myriad of colours made themselves know to his sight. It was beautiful. Just as it always was. A school of Pacific Sardine swam by, his splash having somehow not scared them. He noted a Leopard Shark swimming coolly in the distance, zeroing in on its prey (thankfully opposite of where he needed to be). Sharks always managed to freak him out. They were pretty awesome of course, with all their teeth and how fucking big they got. And he knew they were mostly harmless, very few shark attacks occurred and even fewer were fatal. But he was ashamed to admit Jaws had kinda ruined all sharks for him. Didn’t stop him from knowing every species that could possibly turn up around good ol’ Cali. One thing he researched relentlessly since he had taken up diving was the ocean around him. He could name the different types of coral and all of the herring-like fishes. He could write an essay on the sting rays bumbling about. He wouldn’t. Cuz writing is shit, but he could.

Dean shook his head and looked around, trying to identify where the Carrier Pigeon was so he could snoop. He had always been nosy. Even as a small child. That’s how he discovered his adoration of pie, actually. But that was a story for another day. He let out a few bubbles as an expression of achievement when he spotted the rotten remains. He immediately started moving his legs, flippers propelling him much quicker than he would have gone without the helpful addition. Dean adored gliding through the water. He’d die before he admitted it, but when he was a kid and they’d go to pools, he’d always pretend he was a merman rescuing his bride or groom-to-be.

Even then, he didn’t discriminate between genders.

With the help of the handy dandy flippers, Dean was there in no time at all. Now to snoop. He spent about thirty minutes poking around the shipwreck. He got some pretty cool shots with the camera around his neck, but that was about it. There was nothing terribly exciting, not that he’d expected any excitement beyond breaking the law and maybe seeing some cool fish. He found some old, waterlogged clothing and some cutlery. A few odd coins he stuffed in his pouch, along with a pretty awesome conch shell. Okay, it was a little childish, but part of Dean really enjoyed shell hunting, he had a whole bag in his closet to prove it.

Despite his reminiscing, Dean was conscious of the fact he had maybe twenty or so minutes of air left and it was going to take him a bit less than ten to reach the surface. As such, Dean decided not to cut it too short and just head up.  
As he was slowly making his way, out of the corner of his eye Dean noticed a dark cloud. Turning to face it, he squinted, trying to discern what it was. Whatever it was, it was getting closer, and Dean couldn’t help but wonder if he should be concerned.

Finally it was near enough to see, but, Dean couldn’t really believe what he was seeing. It was…an Enochian.  
Enochian’s were discovered about a year and a half ago after an earthquake apparently opened something in the Mariana Trench. A multitude of creatures had escaped. One such species being what were dubbed Enochians. Why? Dean didn’t really know. Enochian was a supposed language, not a cute little octopus creature. Which is really what they were. Octopus creatures, that is. They had the upper body of a human, but where humans would have hips that lengthened into legs, their hips lengthened into eight tentacles. They shared much in common with octopodes (because that was one of the accepted plurals of octopus), including blue blood and the whole reproductive tentacle thing. But they were also very human. They could be out of water for around four hours, they had the capability to talk, and they were very intelligent. They were also very small, but it was theorized they could grow a great deal. And one was swimming right towards him.

Either it didn’t notice him in its panic, or it thought he was safer than whatever was behind him, but it slammed right into him and suckered on to his wetsuit. Dean was flabbergasted. It was an Enochian. And it was practically hugging him with its little hands wrenched in the fabric of his suit. It was kind of…adorable. Dean wrenched himself out of his little trance when he realized that the little Enochian was still panicking and now pointing. Dean looked up only to blow a couple of panicked bubbles. There was a rather large—12 feet, he would wager—Pacific Sleeper Shark swimming straight towards him.  
Now, Dean knew that there had never been a recorded Pacific Sleeper Shark attack, but he also knew that was mostly because humans didn’t see a whole lot of them because they were usually so deep. Dean also knew there was one swimming straight towards him, likely pissed that he had its intended meal. He knew that Sleeper Sharks swam about five miles per hour opposed to the average human who swam about three and a half without flippers. He didn’t know the statistic with flippers, but he was willing to bet as scared as he was and with his handy flippers, he could beat the shark. Otherwise—well, now he was wasting time. Dean darted towards where his little boat was waiting, well aware of the shark at his flippered heels.

Dean made it in record time—a small part of him hoping he didn’t get the bends or whatever else— of course fumbling and struggling to get into his boat with the weight of the tank. Finally, he was so panicked and bogged down, he decided to just unhook his tank, hoping against anything that it’d just happen to hit the shark on its nose. He quickly recanted that as he realized he really didn’t want it to be that close.

Dean tumbled into the boat and quickly stumbled and slid to the steering, well aware that many sharks liked to take a big bite of tiny boats like his own. Of course, he wasn’t sure if this was the same with the sleeper sharks, but he decided not to find out. He cursed as he remembered the anchor. He hesitated before crawling over, taking out his pocketknife, and slicing through the rope. He would replace it later, because there was no way in hell he was reaching his hands into the water at the moment. He didn’t do sharks.

Finally free, Dean revved the motor and shot off, water droplets slapping his face. He sighed as he was in the home free and safe from hungry sleeper sharks. Then Dean remembered the whole cause of this mess. He took a breath and glanced down. The little Enochian was looking up at him with something akin to awe plastered across his (at least it looked like a ‘he’) face. When the little Enochian saw him looking, his face flushed cobalt, but he didn’t break his gaze. Okay, even Dean could admit, he was damn adorable. He had dripping wet dark brown hair and blue-tinted skin, his eyes were a bright, vivid blue and his tentacles were a blackish colour, blending in with Dean’s suit.

Dean started heading towards the local marina, before finally stopping a hundred or so feet away. He cut the motor and looked down at his little companion. Dean knew that Enochians were capable of speech, but he didn’t know if this one knew any at all. After a few moments, he decided the only way he’d know was if he asked.

“Hey, uh, little guy, I’m Dean,” he pointed to himself and said again, “Dean.” The little Enochian grinned at him with slightly pointed teeth.

“Castiel! I Castiel!” The little guy looked so proud of himself, Dean didn’t have the heart to correct him. He was already getting a bit attached, so he figured he should ask now.

“Do you uh, do you want to go with me? Or back to the ocean? It should be safe here.” Castiel tilted his head and furrowed his little eyebrows. Dean merely bit his lip and contemplated how to simplify this. Finally he decided to try to put Castiel back into the water and see what happens. As he pried Castiel off of his suit, the little guy made little squeaking noises. When he looked at his expression, he was slightly surprised to see a pout. God was it adorable.

Dean slowly lowered his hand over the side of the boat. As soon as Castiel realized what was happening, he let out a bunch of squeaks and tried climbing up Dean’s arm.

“No! No! With Dean! With Dean!” The man in question melted a little bit. Dean decided he couldn’t make Castiel go if he didn’t want to and to simply take him home with him. After all, Dean wasn’t cruel or anything. He quickly but gently pulled his arm back into the boat and cradled the little guy against his chest, stroking his head with a finger. Castiel cooed and wrapped his tentacles thoroughly around Dean’s hand. Dean chuckled before trying to remember all he knew about Enochians. He knew that Castiel would be okay being out of water for a while. He also knew Cas would be fine in freshwater, so he didn’t need to drag any seawater home in baby. Thank god.  
 

"Okay Cas, ready to go home then?” The little octopus creature merely smiled up at him with a little chirp. Oh man. Too damn cute.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: The Carrier Pigeon is an actual shipwreck at those actual coordinates. And diving really isn't allowed.  
> Fun fact: Pacific Sleeper sharks really aren't likely to be seen close to the surface. They really do like being deep.  
> Fun fact: Octopodes (yes, that's actually correct) have a tentacle that act as their reproductive organ. It's their third right one and occasionally it with break off inside the female (or sometimes male, though, less often) so she can keep the semen for later.  
> Fun fact: You should comment :)  
> Fun fact: There's more to come.


End file.
